Scared of the Shame
by MadameMalfoy21
Summary: "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."


_Commission piece I did for Soul-Surgeon my bestest bud who wanted Shin in a church scene :D This was so much fun to do I'm sorry it took so long! WARNING: Rape and abuse. Don't read it if that sort of thing triggers you. For everyone else please enjoy! Also, please note that I no longer take requests. I'm open to ideas if you message me through here or on tumblr, and if I like it enough I might do it, but putting a request in the review box is the number one way for me to ignore you :) I put both time and effort into these stories/oneshots, so to have it completely overrun by childish entitlement (on guest no less) really pisses me off._

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She knelt down before the altar, the cross immense and glowing before her, the calm silence of the church surrounding her presence, the only sound the soft exhales of her breath. That is, until…

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

She gasped softly, turning her head quickly to put a face to the foreign voice.

Heavy boots echoed in the emptiness of the church, the stranger greeting her with a smile. "Isn't that how the phrase goes?"

She swallowed, giving a shy nod. "Yes."

He was a peculiar looking man, with an eyepatch over his left eye and and an intriguing gem hanging around his neck. He kneeled down next to her, pressing his palms together in prayer. It was only then that she noticed he was also wearing glasses.

She couldn't help but look at him, this rugged man, kneeling ever so humbly before God.

"Are you wondering?"

The sudden sound of his voice startled her, and in response, she looked away with shyness.

"You know," he purred, "Most people are curious about my eye."

She blushed bright red at that, immediately rejecting the fact, "I wasn't—"

"It's fine," he said with a dashing smile, pointing to his patch, "We all must pay our retribution to God, don't you think?"

The blush was rising to her ears now, as she looked down at her lap, silently agreeing with the stranger.

"What did you do?" His voice was low, breath in her ear, warm and chilling, goosebumps running down her spine.

She leaned away, bringing an arm up to her face almost as though to shield herself. "It wasn't…I didn't mean to…it's why I'm praying now." She muttered shyly, completely ashamed.

But the stranger continued to lean into her, "Have you given your penance?" She swore she saw him lick his lips as he said so, his smile accented by what looked like fangs.

"I-I…" she hesitated, still trying to create some distance, "T-That's why I'm praying…"

"Praying's not good enough for that sort of thing," he said smartly, "You know that, don't you?"

Her breath caught in her throat, never making it to her lungs, but even if it had it wouldn't have mattered, because the stranger had pressed his lips on hers, robbing her of any air she _did_ have left.

This was wrong. She was in the house of God. And she did not know this man—

She yelped, the sudden sensation of having her lip bitten more shocking than the bite itself, the small sound of her voice echoing in the empty church.

"Did it hurt?" He smirked, looking at her with a sharp gaze.

"A…A little…" She admitted.

"Good," he said, grabbing her by the throat and pushing her down, "The more it hurts, the faster God will forgive you."

She was too stunned to protest, her back hitting the carpeted steps with surprising ease, his grip around her throat tightening again as he leaned down to kiss her once more. He bit down a second time, much sharper, the taste of her own blood filling her mouth. It hurt, enough for tears to gather around her eyes, but not enough for her to let them fall.

If she was to bleed, then so be it. Perhaps God had sent an angel in the form of this man to purge her. After what she'd done, it was the least she could offer—

The stranger slashed at her shirt, the buttons popping off one by one, and she screamed, feeling the sound of her voice fight against the hand that was still at her throat. "What are you doing?!" She tried to protest, but she was no match for him.

"You have to reveal yourself to God," he said, working on her pants, "Or he won't be able to judge you properly."

"But this—"

The sudden cold that met her skin was enough to cut her off, her body exposed and naked. She quickly brought her arms to her chest and crossed her legs, trying to shield herself, but he pried her arms away roughly, pinning them to the rough carpet in a straight line, mimicking a cross.

"Heh," he licked his lips again, "This'll be your sacrifice, understand?"

She didn't know what to say, her words failing her, a sudden terror consuming her soul when she heard the stranger ruffle with his pants, the zipper obscenely loud, seeming to last for an eternity.

And then she felt it. The burning heat against her most intimate flesh, her body hot but her blood running cold.

"Wait, please—"

But it was too late, to ask for forgiveness anymore. And she knew that this was indeed her punishment, because it was the only way something like this could have been permitted in the house of God. And the tears that gathered around her eyes fell now, hot and fast and burning, like holy water on a sinner's body.

The pain was too unbearable to warrant any type of reaction, her mind going numb and her vision paling white. It was sharp, as though she'd been stabbed, her everything robbed of her, stripped down to nothing but heat and flesh. And the tears continued to fall, so wet and _burning,_ the horrible sensation making her choke on her quiet sobs that filled the room with unique loudness.

And this man. This man who groaned above her was smirking; strong and seemingly satisfied with her reaction. "Does it hurt?" He asked, tightening his hold on her wrists. She said nothing, looking up at the roof of the church with distant and empty eyes, hoping this was enough apology to the God she'd been foolish enough to anger.

"Oy you dumb bitch," his hand met her cheek with a sharp _smack,_ the sting nothing compared to the pain between her legs, "Answer me!"

She cried freely now, her body shaking beneath his, hiccups interrupting her speech. "Yes," she sobbed, "P-Please! I won't ever…never again…just please—stop!"

The man chuckled, lowering his lips to her face and then licking up her tears in a single stroke, from the botton of her chin, all the way up to her fluttering lashes. "That's good," he murmured, "I'm purifying you."

Is that what this was? Purification?

"B-But—"

"Shhh." His lips hovered over hers as he spoke, nearly touching but not quite. He pulled out slowly, and then pushed back in, pain radiating from every bit of flesh he touched.

"Please I—"

"Let's open up that soul of yours, shall we? So that God can properly judge you."

"Wait!"

He thrust again, more harshly than the last two times, and she screamed, her back arching, the obscene sound of their skin resonating, their bodies exposed to the eyes of the stained glass.

Her mind spun, everything blank, her mouth going dry. He gave another thrust, and again she shouted, though the tears were now drying on her cheeks. She felt dizzy, staring up at the spiraling patterns of the cathedral, and without fully realizing what she was doing, she clung to the stranger, screaming into his chest and gripping at his clothes.

"P-Please! It hurts! It hurts!"

"Liar." He grinned, pumping roughly, his glasses bouncing on his face, "That deserves extra punishment—"

She wasn't sure what she should have expected, but was too shocked to scream when he bit down on her neck. It almost felt as though…but it couldn't…for him to truly have fangs would be…

Her eyes rolled back, her body strange and hot and descending, and she wondered if this feeling was what he meant by opening up her soul. She trembled, frightened and shaking, fresh tears lining her eyes. "What's…what is this?" She _squeaked,_ the sound parting her lips as another rush of this strange dizziness filled her head.

"You're getting closer to God," he whispered, licking the curve of her neck.

Desperation filled her blood and she shuddered, the spot where he'd bitten throbbing as though consumed with fever, and at that moment she realized she didn't care. With a surge of bravery she wrapped her arms around him, pressing their bodies flush against each other. "Closer," she gasped, "I want to be closer to—God!"

Was this…pain? She no longer knew. Couldn't decide what to make of it, this strange feeling that filled her stomach, that twisted and knotted at the tops of her thighs. It was like a searing thirst, and the more she drank the more parched she became.

"Do you feel it?" He said, "You'll be rewarded with His blessing soon."

She hardly heard him, her world had become so hazed. But to receive such a thing…could it truly be? After what she'd done, had she endured enough pain with this stranger to receive His forgiveness?

"Shin," He whispered in her ear, slowing his thrusts.

"W-What?" She tried to look at him, but her vision was blurring.

"My name," he said with a lick of his lips, "Is Shin. I'll make you see His light, so thank me properly," he growled, tossing his head back, "Understand?"

Pleasure rolled through her body, and though she wasn't sure what to expect it didn't take her very long to realize, because that feeling consumed her again, stronger this time, like a fire that'd finally been set free, his strokes against her flesh sending her into beautiful bliss.

"Sh-Shin," she trembled, crying out his name when her vision when blank, God's light pure and white and the only thing she was able to see before her sinful eyes. And then she felt it, the sudden warmth that filled her to the very core, that raked her with wave after wave, until she could feel herself tumbling…

He rolled off of her, body splayed across the steps. His chest rose and fell, the gem he carried around his neck catching the moonlight, gleaming in the dark of the church.

She shook, closing her eyes so as to not be blinded. Once she'd caught her breath, she gathered herself, wondering why she felt so dirty if she was supposed to have been cleansed.

"Shin-san, do you think—" She turned to look at him, but found him gone. And her heart stopped, as she scurried back into her clothes, dread filling her thoughts. Had this an angel come to cleanse her, or a demon come to claim her soul?


End file.
